But now he’d made an obvious gesture. Hiding her from everyone else. Blocking their sight of how she was pleasuring him.
With the simple act, he’d made their coupling private. Somehow intimate in a very public place.
His eyes never left her face, never strayed from the sight of his shaft sliding in and out of her mouth. The sudden intimacy made Riana even more aroused, and she found herself unconsciously rocking her hips in a humping motion as she bobbed her head over him.
She massaged him with her fingers and sucked as hard as she could.
Cain clutched at the bedding beneath him as his face twisted.
Then he came. He groaned out a hoarse exclamation—one that sounded like it was ripped out of him—and his pelvis convulsed beneath her mouth. She could feel the spasms of his climax and prepared herself for his release, swallowing as much of it as she could.
Only a little dribbled out of the corner of her mouth as she gave his sated cock a few last, slow sucks.
Then she let it slide out of her lips as she hauled herself up and stretched out beside him, making sure to pull the covers up with her.
“Happy birthday,” she murmured, kissing him leisurely on the lips, letting him taste himself there.
He smiled, even as he kissed her and his big hands slid down her back until they were cupping her ass. When their lips parted, he murmured, “Maybe my birthday is tomorrow.”
She giggled appreciatively and rubbed herself against his body, feeling needy and incredibly turned on.
But it was his birthday, and the blow job had been a gift. She wasn’t going to demand anything in return.
“That was incredible,” he said, his voice deliciously deep and gravelly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Her clit was getting some good friction against his thigh, and she couldn’t help but grind her pussy against it a little.
Before she could get anywhere in riding his thigh, he’d turned her over bodily. She was on her stomach now, and he was on top of her, his weight pushing her into the mattress.
She had no objections at all to this arrangement. In fact, she loved the feel of his hot, heavy body on top of her. But she squirmed beneath him and complained, “Hey, who told you to do that?”
Cain just chuckled, one of his hands squeezing under her body until he could rub her swollen clit. “You looked like you wanted a hump. I’ll stop if you want me to.”
“Don’t you dare stop.” She rocked her bottom to develop a good rhythm with her clit against his hand.
He rocked with her, his groin pressed into her ass and their bodies moving together under the covers. Riana gasped as the rhythm and the weight of his body mingled with the pressure of his fingers on her clit.
Soon, the pressure at her center had deepened to such an extent that she writhed helplessly and made mewling sounds against the mattress.
She came, her hips riding out the pleasure between his pelvis and his hand.
He was starting to harden against her bottom already, so she kept pushing back against his groin.
After a minute, Cain grunted and lifted her by the hips so that her ass was higher than the rest of her. His legs on either side of hers, he parted her thighs enough to expose her slippery pussy.
Then he slid his newly hardened cock inside her.
Her chest and cheek still pressed down into the mattress, Riana gasped as Cain started to thrust, using the same rhythm they’d been mirroring before.
She whimpered as the erotic pressure kept rising inside her, and soon she buried her face in the bed so she could muffle her cries of pleasure.
Cain panted just beside her ear, supporting himself with his elbows and forearms, as he pushed into her in fast, hard thrusts.
Then Riana fell out of rhythm as the tension shattered inside her. She cried out into the mattress as the sensations sliced through her and her pussy contracted around Cain’s cock.
He grunted in response. “Fuck, baby, so good.”
Then his pelvis pistoned against her bottom, and he lost the rhythm too, groaning out another hard climax.
They collapsed together onto the bed in a tangle of hot, sweaty flesh.
Cain didn’t roll off her immediately, and she didn’t want him too either. She loved how it felt when he held onto her this way.
“That was a very good morning,” Cain murmured at last, sounding hoarse and pleased and lazy.
“Yeah.” Then Riana smiled to herself, thinking that sometimes just being with Cain brought a kind of light to her world that was totally absent here.
“What?” Cain demanded, pushing her hair out of her face so he could see a little more of it.
“I was just thinking,” she admitted, knowing she couldn’t tell him the truth of what she’d been feeling. “We should do it again tomorrow.”
* * *
Other than their extended lovemaking first thing, the morning passed as nearly all their mornings did. On their midmorning run, however, something about Cain’s demeanor struck her as different.
He usually ran with absolute focus, his eyes straight ahead, as if he were channeling all of his angst and energy into the motion of his body. But this morning, although he ran as hard as he ever did, he seemed watchful. And more than once she saw him studying various parts of the Hold.
It wasn’t like he was on the hunt for an object to use for his device, but he had something on his mind—something other than exercise.
When she’d worn herself out, he locked her into their cell and took off at a run again. Breathless and bright red from her exertion, Riana splashed water on her face and then took off her sweat-soaked camisole, keeping her back to the bars of the cell so she didn’t unnecessarily flash whomever might be passing by.
She’d done what she could to repair her outer shirt, but she mostly just wore her camisole now. It was on its last legs, and once it became too worn to wear she wasn’t sure what she would do.
Cain would find her something—she assumed. But she didn’t like the idea of it.
When she’d washed up as best she could, she pulled on her button-up shirt so she could rinse out her top. She was gentle as she wrung the water out, wanting the fabric to last as long as possible.
When she left it to dry, she found her piece of a comb and started picking at her hair with it. She worked on it some every day and had basically gotten it to the point where it didn’t feel so much like a rats’ nest.
Hall was in his cell as normal. He hadn’t come over to talk to her again, after the last confrontation with Cain, but sometimes he would meet her eyes or smile.
She still wondered about him and sometimes wished she could talk to him more.
She ignored a random man who passed by the cell and started giving her a hard time about being a whore—one of Thorn’s lackeys—but the man was still there when Cain returned from his run.
Cain calmly smashed his fist into the man’s face before he unlocked and entered the cell.
Riana blinked in surprise. “That was unnecessarily violent. He wasn’t doing anything unusual.”
Cain’s lip curled up in a snarl, but he didn’t say anything as he walked over to the sink to clean up.
His softer, more tender mood from this morning had clearly vanished completely. He was back to being stoic and grumpy.
Riana wasn’t surprised—Cain would never be a soft man—but she was a little disappointed. At times, she thought he was starting to open up to her more. That he was starting to think of her as a real companion, as a partner.
But she was continually reminded that he kept far more from her than he shared. He didn’t treat her like a lover or even a friend—at least not all of the time.
He was a very confusing man, and she wondered if he’d be so tight-lipped in different circumstances. Sometimes, she wished she could get Hall to do her a favor and get a good read on what Cain was feeling about her.
She was pretty sure Cain liked her, cared for her at least to a certain extent. After
that day a month ago when she’d almost been raped, she’d come to understand that much. He needed her. If not to survive, then at least to soften the stark, bleak lines of his life here.
But she wanted him to like her for real, to need her simply for who she was.
Not just because she was the only one he had.
As he washed up, she saw the old man she called the Tortoise doing his regular circuit of the Hold. He passed right outside the bars of the cell, and his eyes were focused downward. He looked somehow paler than normal, and she saw that his hands were shaking even more than they usually did. He swayed slightly mid-step, but evidently caught his balance and continued, until he’d passed out of sight.
She felt a weird pang—something she hadn’t experienced in a really long time.
“What is it?” Cain asked, turning around and seeing her preoccupation.
“That old man.” She gestured toward where the man had disappeared. “The Tortoise. The one who goes around in circles.”
He obviously knew who she referred to. “What about him?”
“He looks like he’s going to faint. I think he needs food.” She wasn’t sure why she’d even noticed it, since she’d grown somewhat callous from the harshness of life here. But she felt that pang in her chest that spoke of concern, empathy. “Could you get him some food, do you think?”
Cain stared at her. “You want me to get him food?”
“I’m worried about him. He looks like he could drop dead.”
“That might be a kindness.”
She sucked in a breath. “You don’t mean that. Maybe you could just give him my food, then. I can stand to skip a meal, and he really needs it.”
“What’s gotten into you?” It was a real question. Cain’s brows were drawn together, and he was watching her with obvious confusion on his face.
She sighed and leaned back against the wall. “I don’t know. I know kindness is a sign of weakness here. I know if we’re nice to one person, we’ll be besieged on all sides.” She closed her eyes. “I just don’t always…”
“You don’t always what?”
She opened her eyes to meet his. “I guess I don’t want to really be what they’ve made us. Sorry. Never mind.”
It had been a futile thought anyway. Nothing was going to change where they were, what they were, who they had become in this prison.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
She stiffened in surprise. “What?”
“At mealtime. Later. I’ll see what I can do—without making a big deal.”
The pang in her chest started to transform into something warm and full. “You will? For that poor man?”
Cain gave a strange, stiff nod. He didn’t look soft in any way, but he felt almost vulnerable to her for just a moment. He muttered, “I don’t want to be what they’ve made us either.”
Then he went back to his device, kneeling on the floor to work on it.
She lay on the bed as she always did and watched, feeling like something had changed, although she wasn’t exactly sure what it was.
Cain worked for about an hour, until Riana started getting drowsy. She was about to drift off to sleep when she noticed something odd about his manner.
He’d sat back on his heels and was just staring at the crude, ungainly machine. Sometimes he did that when he was trying to decide what kind of part he needed or when he was trying to work through how to design a certain section of it.
But he never sat back like this for so long, and he never had this particular expression on his face. He didn’t look thoughtful or frustrated or impatient.
He looked watchful again—like he had earlier on his run. Quiet and almost wary.
Suddenly, Riana wondered if he was done.
She turned her gaze to the device, but it didn’t look significantly different from how it had before. He’d added a lot of new parts over the last two months, but they had all been small and hadn’t made a significant difference in the appearance.
If it was done, though, why didn’t he turn it on and test it out?
Maybe it couldn’t perform its function in this cell. Maybe he didn’t want any other prisoners to see what he’d made.
Or maybe he didn’t want her to know he was done.
As if in response to that thought, Cain glanced back at where she was sprawled out. She gave him a groggy smile and half-closed her eyes. This seemed to reassure him because he turned back to stare at his machine.
Her suspicions roused even further at this sign that he wanted to keep her unaware of whatever was going on here, Riana’s gut churned, and her heart started to hammer.
He hadn’t responded a month ago when she’d begged him not to leave her when he managed to escape. At the time, she hadn’t been surprised or particularly worried. She hadn’t really expected an answer to her plea.
But now she wondered if that should have been a warning.
He wouldn’t leave her out of viciousness or cruelty, but maybe his escape plan would only work for one.
Maybe that was why he’d never let himself get truly close to her.
Because he’d always known he was going to have to leave her behind.
Cain stared at the machine for a long time while Riana pretended to doze.
But she was brutally on edge and, even though her eyes were closed, she knew when he stood up.
She could sense him looking at her for a several seconds, and she wondered if he knew she wasn’t asleep. He didn’t say anything, though, and soon she heard him moving in the cell. She heard a scraping sound and knew exactly what it was.
He was moving the device.
That did it. She jumped up from the bed, unconsciously smoothing out her disarranged shirt. “Going on the hunt?” she asked cheerily, when Cain’s head jerked up to stare at her.
He’d moved the machine over toward the door of the cell.
Swallowing over the lump of fear in her throat, she continued, “I’ll come too.”
Cain shook his head, a tight, unreadable expression on his face. “No. Why don’t you stay here this afternoon?”
Riana’s hands fisted at her sides. “I don’t want to stay here. I always go with you. Why can’t I go today?”
“I’ve got something to do. You can’t come.” He turned his back on her, as if his words had settled the question.
A wave of terror and rage slammed into Riana, and she acted on instinct and panic rather than any sane reason or sense. She strode over and grabbed him by the arm, holding on as hard as she could. “I’m going to come. I’m not going to stay here!”
Cain turned back around and stared at her, but he didn’t look as astonished by her intensity as torn. He pulled his arm away from her grip and reached out to hold her by the upper arms. “You have to stay. There’s no argument here.”
His tone was even and filled with absolute authority.
All of it was only assuring Riana that he was about to leave her. That he was going to make his escape. Without her.
She struggled in his grip, trying to pull away so she could hit him, pound on his chest, somehow express the panic, rage, and betrayal she was feeling.
“Riana,” Cain gritted out, his hands like iron, utterly unbreakable. “Stop it. What’s gotten into you?”
“Don’t do it,” she choked, the one thread of her mind that could still think rationally telling her to keep her voice down so no one else could hear. “Don’t leave me, Cain. You know I’ll die here without you. You can’t just leave me behind!”
Something tightened on his stoic face. “What?”
“I know you’re done. I’m not stupid. I know you’re taking it to do whatever it does.” She nodded helplessly down at the device. She was practically sobbing now, but without tears. She was far too horrified to cry. “And now you’re leaving without me. After everything, how can you—”
“Riana!” The one word was as sharp as the bite of a blade. He shook her a little to get her attention.
She fell silent
, his face blurring in front of her eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He sounded furious. Impatient. Almost disgusted. And for some reason, the very human tone from him comforted her. “I’m not going to leave you behind.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him, too dazed to take it all in.
If possible, Cain looked even angrier. “Stop looking like you can’t believe it. What the fuck kind of monster do you think I am? I’m not going to leave you here.”
“You’re not?” She sounded like an idiot—even to her own ears.
“Of course not.” He shook her a little more, although not nearly hard enough to hurt. “Of course, you’re coming too.”
The knot of panic was finally relaxing inside her—leaving an overwhelming flood of warmth and relief. “Oh.”
Still looking annoyed with her, Cain explained in a low voice, “I am finished with it. I think it will work, if I can figure out a plan to use it to our advantage. I need to find a place to put this thing, so it can...do its job.”
Riana frowned as her hazy mind tried to keep up. “But—”
“Unfortunately, it’s not a spaceship to fly us out of here.” His voice was dry and sharp now, and she understood why. Obviously, it wasn’t a spaceship. The jumbled parts barely looked like a working machine. “I’ve got a couple of ideas, but I need to scout them out, and it’s too distracting if you’re with me, since I’m always worrying about keeping you safe.”
“Oh.” She squirmed with sudden embarrassment. “I thought you were moving the thing now and then going to leave me.”
“I’ll have to wait until lights out to move it. I was just seeing how heavy it was. But first I’ve got to find the best place to put it, if you’ll let me leave for a minute.”
“Oh. Sorry. I guess I was stupid.”
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah.”
“Well, you don’t need to be snotty. I was scared, and you’re always going around keeping secrets. I didn’t know.”
Something colder than impatience flickered in his eyes. “You should have known. Unless you genuinely think I am a monster.”
“I don’t,” she admitted, reaching out to touch his chest, worried she’d actually hurt him and that was what triggered his coldness. “But we’re all on survival instincts here. And if your escape plan could only handle one…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered her intense terror of losing him.